A person stood in the room.
He was tall, nearly two meters, holding a massive two-handed sword, draped in bear skin, with a wild gleam in his eyes. He was exactly the kind of barbarian the Romans despised the most.
There were many types of barbarians: those from the forests, the prairies, and the seas. The barbarian in front of him was clearly a forest barbarian, also known as a Germanic, but he also bore traces of other barbarian tribes.
"Your Majesty, God of Wine!" The barbarian saw Linley and cheerfully walked forward, exhaling a strong smell of alcohol. "I am your follower, Bavaria. I entered the divine realm 150 years ago and have been awaiting your command."
Bavaria entering the divine realm 150 years ago meant he had died back then. Due to his unwavering faith in the God of Wine, he did not go to the underworld but entered the divine realm as a follower of the God of Wine.
In the divine realm, followers enjoyed endless happiness, free from the troubles of birth, aging, illness, and death. The divine realm of the God of Wine was filled with fine wine that followers could drink freely. If they didn't want to get drunk, they wouldn't; if they did, they would be instantly intoxicated but could recover after a short rest without any harm to their bodies.
However, this paradise-like life had its risks. If the deity they believed in fell, the divine realm would collapse, and all followers would face certain destruction.
Linley carefully examined the barbarian who called himself Bavaria. His eyes were firm, and there was a hint of fanaticism on his face, a sign of absolute loyalty to his faith. Linley had some doubts; could such a fanatic follower really be of use to him?
"What can you do?" Linley asked.
"In life, I was a powerful warrior of my tribe. I can fight for you, train soldiers, and help you with any excess wine," Bavaria replied.
"Can you go to the outside world?" Linley continued to ask.
"Of course," Bavaria confidently replied. "Even if I get injured or die outside, I will just return to the divine realm to rest for a while, drink some fine wine, and then recover to fight for you again."
This was wonderful, essentially having an immortal hero who just needed some time to be summoned again after dying. Linley's mind was already starting to plan how to use this immortal warrior to fight against the Roman legions.
"Come with me now," Linley said.
"At your command!" Bavaria licked his lips. "Can I have a drink now?"
"Go ahead," Linley said. "But the wine..." He was just about to say there was no wine here, but plenty outside. Before he could finish speaking, a large barrel of distilled wine Linley had just invented appeared out of thin air in the middle of the room.
Barbaria picked up a ladle, scooped a large spoonful, and gulped it down. His face immediately turned red, and he shouted, "Good wine!" Then his whole body turned red as he exclaimed, "Let's go, anyone who dares to offend the majesty of the gods must die!"
With a thought, Linley and Barbaria found themselves in the temple. Odysseus saw them and was overjoyed. "You can summon followers from the divine realm?"
"I've only summoned this one so far," Linley replied.
"I am Barbaria. Are you the local high priest?" Barbaria asked. "You don't seem like a fighter. Let me take command."
"No problem, I'll follow your lead," Odysseus agreed.
"What's the situation outside?" Barbaria asked.
He leaned out the window, took a look, and sneered, "These are the Roman legions? They're too weak, nothing compared to their ancestors. The Roman army back in the day was truly formidable. I led charges against them dozens of times, and their formations didn't waver in the slightest."
The problem was that the temple didn't have any elite soldiers either, only priests and apprentices, totaling over a hundred people, none of whom had ever been on a battlefield or had the qualities of trained soldiers.
Bavaria asked, "Do you guys usually do any combat training? What weapons are you accustomed to using?"
Linley thought, their best weapon is probably a wine glass. Are they going to smash people with wine glasses?
However, the reaction of the apprentices surprised him.. They took out short wooden sticks from nearby, which were their usual weapons. The Temple of the Wine God is famous for brewing the finest wines, attracting many drinkers year-round, who often start fights when they get drunk. Therefore, the walls and windows of the temple are particularly sturdy.
Whenever someone causes trouble, the apprentices are responsible for subduing them with these short wooden sticks. Due to the limited space inside the temple, long weapons are impractical, and sharp weapons are too dangerous, so short wooden sticks are the best choice.
These sticks aren't meant for hitting heads, as that could cause serious injury. The correct way to use them is to restrain the opponent, throw them to the ground, and then drag them out to splash water on them to sober them up.
If the opponent is armed, the apprentices use the sticks to knock the weapon out of their hands, then proceed with subduing, throwing to the ground, and dragging out to splash water.
Linley asked skeptically, "These sticks are too short, and there aren't enough of them. How can we fight?"
The short sticks are usually only used to maintain order, so there's no need to have too many; a dozen or so are enough. Some apprentices were in a hurry to distill wine earlier and used them as firewood.
Bavaria pondered for a moment and said, "First, dismantle the tables and use the table legs as sticks. Hammer some nails into the sticks to make spiked clubs, and attach handles to the table tops to use them as shields."
So, the tables were broken down into weapons and shields, and the empty wine barrels were moved to the entrance, filled with water and leftover wine to serve as obstacles. Bavaria also divided the people into several groups: young priests wielding spiked clubs stood at the doors and windows, apprentices with shields lined up behind them, and the elder priests holding bottles of alcohol stood at the back.
No matter which entrance the enemy attacked from, the apprentices would charge forward, surrounding the enemy with their shields. Then, the elder priests would douse the enemy with alcohol and ignite it, using their numbers to overpower and drive the enemy back.
Bavaria said, "Those who can charge into battle and not retreat even when surrounded by the enemy are true warriors. Even among the Romans a hundred years ago, such warriors were rare. Now, the Roman army's discipline has weakened, and there are even fewer warriors. If we defeat the few warriors at the front, their morale will collapse."
Linley doubted, "They can't be that cowardly, can they? After all, they are a regular army."
"The Romans are not so terrifying. My tribe was not strong back then, but we fought the Romans many times," Bavaria said. "It was just that other tribes were too cowardly; they were bribed by the Romans to quietly withdraw from the front lines, causing my tribe to be surrounded by the Roman army, and that's how I was defeated by the Romans. Today, we have the protection of Dionysus. Even if we are outnumbered, we will surely win! For Dionysus!"